We always hope for snow on Christmas day. For many parts of the world, this is no big deal and nothing special. In our home town, it is very rare to have a white Christmas: in my fifty three years, I can recall exactly three. The most dramatic was in 1996 when we had snow drifts over ten feet high and were snow bound for several days. We had to tunnel out of our house and out of our driveway.

So a few inches sounds just right. It is plenty enough.

It isn't Bing Crosby romanticism about White Christmases, or Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow carefree caroling I'm seeking. It is the transformation implicit in a new snowfall. All appears new under a blanket of snow. The ordinary appears extraordinary and we see with different eyes. This is what Christmas morning is about and a little visual aid doesn't hurt.

I know it didn't snow that first Christmas morning in Bethlehem. I know it wasn't even winter when Jesus was most likely born. I know none of that really matters in this commercial craziness we call "Christmas" which bears so little resemblance to what really happened at that moment when God became man.

The Benjamin Britten carol "There is No Rose" from “The Ceremony of Carols” profoundly illustrates this with a few Latin words that translate to:

"Allelulia! A wondrous thing has happened! God and man become equally formed, made as one. Let us rejoice! Let us be transformed as a result!"

Christmas Day is our day for renewal--clean, extraordinary, transforming.

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